


Intoxication

by emmastrenchcoat



Category: British YouTube - Fandom, Stephen Tries, Video Blogging RPF, WillNE, youtube - Fandom
Genre: AU, Bar, Bartender!Will, George is only in this very very briefly, M/M, So if you came for him sorry x, bar au, pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-10 00:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmastrenchcoat/pseuds/emmastrenchcoat
Summary: Will Lenney is a 21-year-old bartender trying to earn his day's bread by bartending at a pub in a rougher area of London, England. He's found his ways of making the job better than it is, though objectively his life could be a lot better. One fateful night a group of university students step inside the bar, and Will meets 22-year-old Stephen Lawson, a man with chiselled cheeks and a bright future. How could it ever be possible for their paths to collide?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [williamastankova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/gifts).



As the door opened, creaking, he lifted his head to see if it was a regular guest entering the pub that Friday. He had earned a fair bit of respect from senior regulars for remembering the brands of their favourite whiskeys and the exact number of ice cubes that they liked in their drinks. Still, the extra tips he received only just covered the rent for his shabby downtown London flat. Thus, Will Lenney sighed when he saw new faces enter, their noses still pink from the chilly November night. Not paying attention to the other men around him, who were wolfing down their drinks with a thirst that he wished they had for life as well, he studied the faces of the much younger ones that entered the bar. Detecting one that looked older than 25 was nigh impossible; in fact, they were all so young he began to wonder what they were doing in this area of London. Sure, he himself was 21, but a certain unfortunate string of events had dwindled his money down to mere pennies. 'I thought you stayed here by choice', some of the older men would sometimes say to him. He never replied. A drunken man was not worth his pain. 

Nonetheless, he'd learned to make something of it. Through all of the tipsy messes, broken hearts and broken glasses alike, Will learned to seek purpose while he was there. After all, his demise was temporary. In a few months, maybe a year, he'd be gone, off to university. His devised pastime had become guessing someone's favourite drink based off of trends in appearance. This hobby was exactly the reason that he was now eyeing the group of uni students approaching the bar, chatting loudly and laughing with one another. Glancing to the clock on the wall, he knew that this would be the last dozen he'd serve that night. 

Thank God George was taking the night shift; although the two only ever saw each other when switching shifts, they'd come to appreciate the brief moments of each other's presence. George was, like Will, a financially struggling man in his early twenties. The two had bonded over sharing similar backgrounds and would always give each other moral support when it was needed. It was a nice dynamic. Nevertheless, George's shift was still just under an hour away. 

"What can I get yous?", he half-yelled into the group. He was betting on the seemingly oldest of the group to go for the house special; the blonde over there would surely get whiskey; yes, the brunet looked like the type for beer...

About ten or eleven orders were placed, and as he filled each glass and handed it to the corresponding customer, he noted that one boy had not ordered anything at all. As a matter of fact, he looked rather uncomfortable, stealing nervous glances of the walls and furniture as if it were a house of ill repute. 

Will frowned. He studied the face of the ginger with the black shirt; he had extremely well-defined cheekbones, attentive, sober eyes that glistened in the dull illumination of the lightbulbs, and the faintest of freckles that matched the colour of his hair. Really, the dim lights didn't do him justice. He was simply breathtaking, and Will found himself completely blown away by his sheer allure. 

"Oi", a rough voice brought him to reality- it made Will jump a little less than it did the man he was looking at- "what's with the staring? And where's my beer?" 

Will tried not to blush furiously as he felt an intense urge to defend himself. He hadn't been staring! Who gave that bloke the authority to be rude anyway? Knowing that it'd cost him his meagre job if he picked a fight, Will kept his mouth shut and finished handing out all of the drinks for that group. Still, the man with the black shirt didn't take a single sip of any drink, and though he sometimes interjected the conversation and participated in interaction, Will couldn't make out his voice as he was cleaning the glasses of previous customers. It simply drowned into the overall rubble of everyone else. 

After what seemed like an eternity of endless refills and even some new drinks, the ginger finally made his way to the bar. Will walked over, meeting him with a smile. Funny, the thought, he didn't have to force it. 

Their faces were close now, and Will could see every eyelash crystally clear. Involuntarily he gulped, only slightly though, as it didn't seem to deter the man in front of him. 

"What can I get you", Will asked, his voice a pleasant few decibels lower than usually. It came out as more of a statement than a question, like he was heartlessly rehearsing lines that had been drilled into his head one too many a time. 

Before he spoke, the man leaned in closer, and Will's hands subconsciously moved to the side of his apron to fiddle with a loose string. 

"I don't drink", he murmured carefully, turning back as a precautionary measure, wordlessly informing Will that his friends were likely not aware of that. 

"Could you...", he continued, raising his eyebrow slightly as to indicate something. 

Will, of course, was completely dumbfounded as he struggled not to stare at him but instead answer the question. It clocked a few seconds too late as he scrunched his face up and exclaimed, "Of course!" 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

He filled up a glass with water, ice, and a slice of lemon. When he looked back over his shoulder to check whether any of the rest of the boys were watching, he only found the ginger looking at him intently. Perhaps one could classify it as staring, but it was more than that. Will felt the heat on his cheeks as the eye contact wasn't broken. He turned, walking back with the glass in his hand. 

"A vodka, yeah?", he asked loudly. 

"Don't have to say it twice, do I?", he responded immediately. It was a rough neighbourhood indeed, Will sighed innerly, even the good boys had their lines practised. 

It was almost comical; their words were coming out of their mouthes foul and bitter. They didn't match their actions at all. Eye contact wasn't broken even when Will handed the 'drink' over to the other man. The corners of his mouth raised a little as he whispered, "Cheers", nearly inaudibly. He winked and turned away to face his friends, who cheered at the sight of the glass in his hand. Will stood there, unable to gain the man's eye contact once more. 

"For God's sake!", Will hissed as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, "George, you bloody scared me!" 

"Sorry", George laughed, "At least you're off work now, though", he added, still chuckling to himself. Will had always appreciated George's knack for humour, even in ordeals like this. 

"Why did I scare you anyway?", he asked, now curious. 

Will shrugged. 

"No reason". 

He took his keys and jacket, not bothering to put it on as he was hit by the harsh wind of the night, forcing the freezing air into his lungs and brain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long to come out x I rewrote it like four times because I wasn't entirely sure what I want to do with this fic

The week that followed the brief but electric interaction between the two men was slow and lazy, barely allowing time to pass as Monday faded into Tuesday. Tuesday was the day George met Will with not only a hug but a note in his hand. 

"It's from some ginger bloke who said he knew you. Didn't know your name though", he explained. 

"Aye, canny strange that", Will responded, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He knew exactly who this was from. As he routinely and ironically mumbled "have fun" to George, he unfolded the delicate piece of paper in the tips of his fingers. 

'Cheers x' was all it said. It was enough. Will grinned stupidly as he realised that George was right: the man didn't know his name, and neither did Will know his. That was going to have to change. The only problem was that Will had no control over their next encounter. It was just going to have to take him by surprise. 

It felt like year's time had passed before it was Friday again. The last hour of his shift began like any other, though once the clock struck six, the door opened. None other than the ginger man from a week prior walked through, nearly nervously making his way to the bar, where he sat down. Will was there immediately. 

Working up his courage, Will smirked and said quietly, "The usual?" 

In response, the ginger cracked a smile. Nodding, he added, "the mandem's coming in a few minutes." 

"I saw your note." 

"George's a nice lad." 

"I don't even know your name." 

Once again, the man laughed softly; then, leaning over the counter just as Will finished the 'drink', he tugged at Will's collar so that his mouth was by the brunet's ear. 

"Stephen", he whispered, and for some reason it sent shivers down Will's spine, "I'll be back tomorrow night, Will." 

Just as Will had found something witty to say in response, Stephen took the drink out of his hand, released his collar, and turned to face the door, which opened to reveal the same group of men from the week before. Booming voices filled the bar as well as Will's ever so confused mind. He started taking orders. For a short amount of time he asked himself how Stephen knew his name, before remembering that he was obliged to wear a name tag that advertised his own name in big bold letters. That he should have forgotten such an obvious fact was embarrassing to him, though he blamed it on the rush of the brief chat with the ginger. 

Once more he was not able to catch Stephen's eye a second time that night. As George showed up to take over his shift, he entirely forgot to exchange just a single word; he was lost in his own world. 

"Stephen", he mumbled to himself, stumbling outside the back door into the shady alleyway. He needed to sort his mind out. There was a profound and inexplicable attraction that he felt towards the man; Will was unable to explain as to why he was so drawn to him. Perhaps it was his uncanny beauty, the way he spoke or moved, but it made Will want to know him. He didn't just want to know every curve of that delicate body, no; Will longed to actually get to know the person that was Stephen. Beyond his commitment to sobriety from alcohol, Will knew nothing. Yet he felt entirely intoxicated. 

It had been so long that he'd felt love for someone. Not that he loved Stephen: it was too early to call it that, but something was there. On Will's part, at least. Obviously this thought sent his mind into haywire, questions of possible reciprocation entirely dominating his mind. Leaning against the filthy wall of the alley, he rubbed his temples methodically. 

Calm. 

Will stared up into the dark night's sky. Despite the lack of stars, the moon offered some illumination to light his way back home, just a few hundred metres away from here. 

The night went by in a blur, and before he knew it he was standing in front of the tiny mirror in his shabby bathroom, deciding what shade of black to wear that evening's shift. It was the last of that week, and he was excited for the approaching weekend. Even though Will's weekends were a whole day shorter than the average citizen's, it gave him the opportunity to visit his mam, who lived farther north with his beloved dog Darcey. In that sense, Will counted himself lucky that he didn't start uni yet, and thus only had friends in his hometown. On the other hand, such a lifestyle had rendered him lonely and in desperate need of contact and intimacy. Combining this with his recent unexplainable fascination with the man he didn't know, Stephen, a perfect storm was in the making. 

For the very first time, Will entered the pub with determination and excitement. Stephen had said he'd be back that night, and Will knew that it wasn't a white lie. This was no sentence devoid of meaning, something said to fill the gap that conversational expectations would deem awkward, no; what Stephen had whispered to him twenty-three hours prior was truth scented with anticipation. 

Nonetheless, the hours of his shift passed quickly- again, for the first time ever- and Stephen was nowhere to be seen. Feeling silly, he blindly served drinks. The door creaked loudly and Will's head snapped up. Just as promised, a small silhouette struggled to fill the doorframe, and Will smiled warmheartedly as Stephen entered the pub. Trying to hide his obvious excitement was hard, so he did his best to ignore the determined steps that Stephen took towards the bar. To his luck, the establishment was fairly empty that night. 

Stephen strode over to the bar. He was wearing a blue jumper and trousers of the same colour; the dull navy made his piercing eyes stand out to anyone that looked his way. Even his hair, which was in no way aggresively ginger, but rather a faded strawberry blond, stood out, though Will barely paid attention to it, for he was too busy studying the man's face. Stephen was prettier than Will recalled from the first night they met; he had to look away when he noticed his cheeks heating up as he stared. Stephen, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the attention. He smiled sweetly as he sat down right by the bar, his face propped up in his hands, his eyes focused on Will's lips as he greeted him quietly. 

"The usual, please", Stephen said. This was Will's time to gain control over this situation. He placed his hands on the table purposefully, smiling as he leaned closer to Stephen, just a few centimetres and just to make a point. 

"Tell me about yourself first", he replied. Stephen smirked. 

"I see".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any requests for this fic (plot points, endings, anything else) you can post them in the comments because I still haven't quite decided how it's going to end or what will happen. All your support is lovely and thank you to everyone who reads this stuff x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this took so long to upload xxxxx  
> I can't apologise enough. We've had removal men at our house for days and it's been horribly stressful and very boring at the same time; what a great combination to instigate writer's block!  
> Enough waffling, I hope yous enjoy the chapter!

Over the course of twenty minutes Will finally got to know who this man was. Stephen was twenty-two, loved to make jokes, was the second child in his family, and against the stereotype he was the hardworking child, with an upcoming graduation from university with a degree in English language and linguistics. Though he averted his eyes as he spoke of his studies, Will couldn't help but notice the glint of pride in his sapphire eyes as he briefly grazed over the course materials, perhaps getting lost in his passion for language for a few minutes. It was truly admirable, Will thought. That someone could love academics so much and maintain dedication was impressive; however, it did make Will feel slightly guilty about himself. He was so different, struggling to keep up a consistent work ethic and passion for a particular subject of study. 

Will didn't even realise that Stephen had stopped talking. He was lost in the concept of the interaction between two vastly different personas; it seemed ridiculous that his path should intersect with the life of someone with a clearly bright future ahead. The best outcome that Will saw for himself was a downgrade job in his hometown. 

"How old are you, Will?", Stephen asked, pulling Will out of his trance. 

"21". 

Stephen raised an eyebrow, so Will felt obliged to explain why he wasn't in university. Stephen continued to ask Will questions, and Will was flattered that he seemed so genuinely interested in him. After all, he was just a boy from a small town, unable to offer anything but an alcoholic drink. And yet sober Stephen chose to stay. 

Just as Will turned around to serve a few new customers, Stephen left. There was no trace but an empty glass left on the table, and Will's heart suddenly felt empty and devoid of the comforting presence of the man. Just as he glanced at the clock to discover that this was the very end of his shift, he realised that Stephen didn't leave randomly. It was because he knew Will would be getting off work. 

Will couldn't help but ask himself whether the man had left because he didn't want to spend time with him beyond what he had promised in the small paper note, or because Will had told him that he tries to study in the time between work shifts and visiting his mother. 

Once again poor George received a half-hearted greeting and goodbye as Will left, his own questions unanswered. All he could do, really, was wait until Monday. 

And so Monday rolled around. The weekend, for once, went by slowly. The train ride to Newcastle was spent staring out of the window. He'd much rather be staring at Stephen, Will thought. Now that Stephen had instigated a game of a sort of hide-and-seek, Will knew that there was something between them. Merely a small spark had lit up the fog around them, but Will knew that it was enough to cause a fire, something hot and burning with pure passion. 

Mrs. Lenney too detected the change in her son's behaviour; the dishes were done with the smile, and he carried heavy shopping as if he was walking on clouds. She didn't say anything, though, for she hadn't seen her son so happy in years. It wouldn't be until exactly seven days later that she would ask, for the coming week truly ignited Will's heart and mind. 

The bar was full for a Monday, much to Will's demise. Two hours into his shift his forehead was covered in a clear sheen of sweat, and his fatigued arms and legs were powered by nothing but hope that Stephen would show up. 

His hopes didn't go unresolved. 

Stephen walked in carrying a book and a notepad under his arm. His cheeks were red and his brows were furrowed; Will wondered what had upset him. 

"Y'alright?", Will asked carefully. 

Stephen sat down and took a deep breath. He looked up into Will's concerned eyes and smiled sweetly. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

Will returned the smile at this affirmation. Then, out of something that he could only describe as a natural instinct, he moved his hand towards Stephen's cheek, cupping it gingerly. For a harrowing second, he froze. What in the world did he just do? He felt the heat of Stephen's blush against the inside of his palm, but instead of pulling away, the boy closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Will exhaled shakily, grazing his thumb over Stephen's soft cheek. 

"Oi! Another one, please", a voice boomed from the other side of the bar. Will winced, his hand retracting rapidly as he turned around even more rapidly and murmured, "aye 'course, sorry mate". When he served the rough man another beer, he re-realised how out of place Stephen was at this bar. 

Everyone who visited this shabby locale was rough, most of them with big round beer bellies pressing against their old t-shirts or flannels. Greasy hair was either tied back or lazily and unevenly cut, and their beards were uncombed as much as they were uncivilised. Whenever younger people walked in, they were in groups, and they were students, for they couldn't afford to go to a more expensive pub. Will didn't mind at all; it was the only time he got to see what he would have to look forward to when he eventually went to university himself. But Stephen, who was here alone, was clearly different. Everything about him was delicate, his youth radiating through his porcelain skin and his eyes still glistening with blissful innocence and hunger for life. 

He diverted his attention back to said man.

What a contrast. Will sighed involuntarily at the sight of the lines on his forehead; Stephen was deeply engrossed in what Will recognised to be a book about sound devices in modern literature. Stephen was jotting notes down after every few lines that he read, and Will stood there for a while, empty glass in one hand. The passion was endearing to say the least. He didn't know how long he was staring for until Stephen lifted his head to meet his gaze with his own eyes. 

"Sorry", he said, clearly embarrassed, "I have an exam next week and-" 

"Hey, it's okay", Will cut him off, "I'm- uh- flattered that you even came here...again." 

Stephen grinned. God, he was adorable. At the same time though, his sex appeal was uncanny. Will shook his head. 

The rest of the evening was spent mostly in silence. Every now and again Stephen would excitedly read aloud a part of his book that he particularly enjoyed, but otherwise they were both occupied with their own work. Nonetheless, the company in and of itself was the most beautiful feeling Will had ever felt. 

So it became a habit. For the rest of the month, Stephen came to see Will every day, except for Sundays, where Will would travel home with a huge smile on his face. 

When Mrs Lenney asked about her son's immense spike in wellbeing, he would respond with one of the following replies: 

"Mam, I got a pay raise." 

"Mam, I found a flat I can rent." 

"Mam, I've gotten more tips."

Inevitably he ran out of excuses. As he was standing in his mother's kitchen, just two weeks before Christmas, he was speechless, unable to fool his poor mother anymore. Despite wanting to be open with her, he felt a knot in his stomach and a dryness in his mouth that he knew resulted from never having told his parents about his attraction to boys. Not that he'd ever given into it, no. It was the only way to prevent ever having to talk about it. However, Stephen had rendered Will a hopeless confederate to his heart's treaty of love. 

"Mam, I...nevermind".


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is getting kind of long and I haven't updated it in ages I'm sorry guys xxx hope yous forgive me.

Will was in a quite clearly dismal mood the next day. Although he and Stephen had exchanged numbers, they very rarely messaged, and it was only once that Will told Stephen not to come to the bar, and that was when he was sick. Nevertheless, he was seriously considering telling Stephen not to bother making the journey there that night. His failure of an attempt at opening up to his mother about being in love had gotten to him. He didn't though; there was something in him that needed Stephen to be there for him. Maybe he even entertained the temptation of just doing it, just telling him that he was falling in love faster and harder than his heart could handle. Stephen walked into the bar on that evening, and he noticed Will's desolation straight away. 

Whatever book he was carrying that day was cast aside haphazardly; he tried to make eye contact with the brunet, but failed when Will, who was sitting, slumped over on a chair right next to the one Stephen was sat at now, simply wouldn't look his way. The pub was empty, very empty. A few weeks prior Will had agreed to take over George's shift- for some undisclosed but respected personal reasons- which lasted until midnight. On a Monday evening, that meant mostly standing next to half-empty wine bottles as the cold wind blew through the creaks in the door, whistling audibly in the unusual silence. 

Now, there was silence too. 

Stephen carefully took Will's limp hand, covering it with two of his own. Will looked up into his eyes, not daring to say a single word. For months they had been talking to each other, every now and again sharing an electrically charged touch that only lasted for a few, fleeting moments in which Will was at ease with the world. As much as they had laughed together and caught each other staring and blushing, none of the built-up tension was resolved. 

This was why Stephen sitting there, holding Will's hand, came as such a surprise. Will knew that Stephen was interested in him, but he was never sure whether it was purely platonic, as Stephen had revealed that he was generally an introvert. He didn't even know if Stephen was single; hell, he didn't even know if he was attracted to men at all. The thought was always enough to tear Will's hopes of reciprocity to shreds. 

If he couldn't have Stephen romantically, a friendship was still more than he could ask for. However, it was this moment that confused him. It confused him so much that he pulled his hand away, scared, holding it close to his chest as he finally managed to look into Stephen's- now hurt- eyes. They both breathed heavily. The silence was awful. 

"Bloody hell, Will, what is it?", Stephen snapped, jumping up from his chair. 

Will gave no response but just sat there, his insides coiling uncomfortably, though he was working up some anger, too. 

"I've come here, every day, for months, and we've been getting so close I thought you'd at least tell me if you don't want me to be here tonight. Will?"

No response. 

"Will, why can't you just tell me what's wrong? You obviously wanted me to be here, or you would have told me otherwise!" 

As Stephen's face went from confused to angry to lost, Will still didn't even grant him eye contact. He was being attacked on no basis, and he didn't like it at all. In fact, a dangerous cocktail of suppressed feelings and bitterness boiled inside him, pressing against the inside of his mouth so urgently that all of a sudden, every venomous word he was thinking he spat out of his mouth.

"For god's sake, Stephen, don't you get it?" 

Stephen was taken aback by Will's sudden burst of rage, and now the two were standing and very well making eye contact. 

Will's eyes burned with hot tears that he shamelessly let fall onto his cheeks and drench the dirty carpet below. 

"Do you really not get it? Every night you've come here to see me, and every night I've realised more and more how in-fucking-love I am with you!"

Now it was Stephen's turn to retort the deadliest reply of them all: silence. 

"Fucking hell", Will said, dropping his raised arm defeatedly, "I should have known it. You probably have a girlfriend too. You know, I really shouldn't have wasted my time with you-"

"Wasted your time?", Stephen suddenly shouted, "So is that all I am to you? A waste of time? Well then maybe it's no fucking wonder you never thought to express your feelings before!" 

Will was thoroughly taken aback. This was not what he wanted.

No no no, was all he could think to himself, this wasn't what he wanted at all. 

"How could I when you've given me no signs that I even stand a chance!", he yelled instead of apologising and ending this awful fight, "I mean, look at me!"

Stephen scoffed. 

"Now what's that supposed to mean?", Will provoked. 

"I'm fucking appalled is what it's supposed to mean", Stephen hissed, "face like yours and you don't make an advance on someone like me? Pathetic!" 

Will opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, visibly. The tension in the room was pulling them apart as much as it was pushing them together; Will knew nobody could walk into the pub anymore, because the air was filled with unspoken sentiments and unresolved, and frankly quite pointless, wrath. More and more he realised that Stephen had just called him attractive. Not only that, but he didn't storm off into the night, leaving Will behind for good. 

He was staring directly at him.

And just like that, Will and Stephen didn't need to say anything more. All they needed now is actions, they needed to break the fine strand of self-control that was holding them back from what they each seperately had been yearning for. 

Will took the grandest and biggest steps- both literally and metaphorically- that he had ever taken in his life when he closed the gap between himself and Stephen, pushing the ginger into the wall, which was a few inches behind him. 

"You're so fucking hot", Will whispered against his lips; they were so close together, their bodies pressed against each other in almost every place except for their lips. 

"Is that so?" Stephen teased, trying to tease Will, who was having none of it. 

Will tried to close the minuscule gap between their mouths, but Stephen wouldn't let him. He was still trying to gain control; this was something he wasn't very good at. 

"I beg to differ", he tried again, smirking slightly as he thought he had the upper hand. 

Will's response was immediate, and he made it clear that he was the one in charge that night. 

"Then beg". 

Will grabbed Stephen's cheeks as he finally kissed him hard and fast, and when they breathlessly pulled apart the latter hopelessly grabbed Will's back and his shirt, really any part of his body that would allow him more contact. 

That's all that they wanted.

So, Will kissed Stephen again, biting his lip almost harshly enough for it to bleed, soon soothing it with a hot kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a REALLY short one, hope yous don't mind x I just wanted it to be separate from the sinning I'm about to write for the last chapter.

"Will", Stephen moaned, obviously pleasantly surprised and highly aroused by Will's sudden kisses, and more importantly, the sudden contact. He bucked his hips up into Will's, who moved his hands from cupping Stephen's face to holding his hips down firmly, pushing him into the wall. 

Purposefully, Will pulled away every so slightly, so that the only points of touch were their lips and his hands. 

As Will ground into Stephen's hips one singular, sharp time, the ginger moaned again, this time louder and with more desperation. It was incredibly hard to restrain from doing anything drastic, Will remarked to himself. Conflicting sentiments made him break their kiss, and he struggled to take his eyes off of Stephen's perfect lips as he murmured, "my shift". 

Stephen sighed, for once not out of pleasure, and nodded. 

"What are we going to do?", he probed carefully, fully expecting an answer that would much displease him. 

Will pondered, playing with the collar of Stephen's shirt with one absentminded hand, while the other still rested firmly on the latter's hip. His decision on whether to continue or not was made for him when the doors flung open to reveal an old, obviously grumpy character, but more importantly: a customer. It was a man in his late fifties, fitting the target demographic for this pub perfectly. 

Probably divorced. 

 

Twice.

He was here for a whiskey.

And a shot. 

And now he was blatantly staring at the pair that was pressed against the wall. 

Will had to act quickly. He didn't hesitate as his gentle caress of Stephen's collar became a firm grip, and his eyes narrowed down to focus on the gorgeous freckles of the bridge of his nose. 

"Are we clear now?", he exclaimed, just loud enough for the man to hear. 

Stephen was obviously suppressing a smirk; he saw right through Will and knew what he was doing. They had to cover up their compromising position somehow, and the best way to do it was to fake an argument. Maybe this was his chance to gain back control.

"Yes, sir", Stephen responded, the lust-blown pupils of his emerald eyes staring right into Will's so blissfully innocently, though he knew exactly what he was saying. 

Will tried hard not to let the growing problem in his pants show. Quickly, and just roughly enough, he shoved Stephen to the side, and pretended to clean his hands on his apron, which was a calculated move for it took the attention right away from his crotch for just enough time to get back behind the bar. 

Stephen scurried out of the locale, and Will called after him, "and I don't ever want to see you here again!" 

Perhaps it was a tad dramatic, but it would have to do. With fake confidence he looked the other man into the eye and apologised for the scrap. 

He grunted. "'s a'ight. Just g'me a whiskey mate", he stated tiredly. 

Will smiled because he was right, but cursed the length of that night on behalf of the memory he just made and the attention that his touch-deprived body just received.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this fic is trying to be a lot of things at once. I'm sorry if it seems that way; I do hope you enjoy it anyway x

Humans make mistakes. Again and again humanity is proven to imperfect, and flawed in a plethora of ways; however, the two young men never came close to repeating the choice of meeting in the bar again.

They didn't talk during the day. They didn't see each other until 9 o'clock, where a slightly freezing Stephen rung the bell to Will's flat. Will had texted him his address and a time, but nothing more. There was nothing to say. He intended to demonstrate his feelings towards Stephen, rather than riling up the situation and sexual tension more by texting him. 

The matter remained unspoken about. 

It was only now that Will was in the lift to open the door for Stephen that he realised what they were about to do. In that moment he was nothing but nervous. Perhaps he was slightly aroused, but the feeling was entirely dominated by his anticipation. What if Stephen just wanted to chat? 

Sure, the previous night had ended rapidly in the middle of a heated moment, but it could have just been an in-the-moment sort of thing. Although the thought would seem ludicrous to any sane person, Will couldn't help himself. Under no circumstances did he want to mess things up. 

One thing he did know for sure, one fact that was utterly irrefutable, was that Stephen was standing right there, just separated by an inconsequential door. Unable to contain himself or give himself time to take a deep breath in preparation, he opened it and pulled Stephen in for a long hug. Will squeezed him tightly and the moment was almost pure; it was very nearly innocent, at least until Stephen pulled away and pressed his- still quite cold- lips into Will's, kissing him breathless as he pushed him inside. 

"Stephen", Will murmured as he pulled away, his hands still firmly on Stephen's jumper-clad back and scarf-wrapped neck, "there are other people in this building". 

"But not your apartment, right?" Stephen asked, obviously in need of contact, to pick up where they left off the previous day. 

Good, Will thought, that settled his worries. 

Will dove in for another kiss as Stephen kicked the door closed with his foot, both of them somehow finding their way into the lift. Will forced one of his hands away from Stephen's body to press the glowing 16, and as they soared higher and higher their kisses grew more frantic and it was now far too hot for such silly things as clothes. 

All of a sudden, by the eleventh floor, the lift came to a halt. As the doors opened both Will and Stephen pulled away from each other, wide-eyed, and of course innerly groaning. Nonetheless, the lift remained empty as nobody stepped inside. Although this regained them their much-desired privacy, they had momentarily stopped kissing and roaming their hands over each others' bodies. So, they stood there and looked each other into the eyes, Will reaching his hand to cup the side of Stephen's face like he had at the pub an eternity ago. 

The moment seemingly lasted forever, though of course only mere minutes passed before the lift came to yet another, this time their final, halt with a small "ding". 

Wordlessly Will took Stephen's hand and led him into his apartment. Once the door closed behind them Will felt slightly overcome by anxiety, for he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. They hadn't talked about it, of course. Neither of them had had a complete idea of what was going to happen that fateful night, but unbeknownst to them both, they wanted the same thing.

Badly.

"So, uh", Will tried to initiate a conversation. He was cut off, rapidly so, by Stephen, who pulled him in (and slightly down, seeing as he was a tad shorter) for another heated kiss. This time, Will thought, this time they wouldn't be interrupted. 

No, this time they wouldn't let anything stop them. 

Stephen was struggling to gain control, Will realised quite quickly. The ginger tried pinning Will against the wall, but his smaller frame failed him as Will was proven to be the stronger one. 

As their lungs screamed for oxygen Will smirked, keeping Stephen's back pressed very firmly against the wall. He kissed him again, shortly and sweetly, truly relishing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against his own.

Stephen put his hands on either side of Will's face, deepening the kiss, which gave Will an idea. He ran his hands up Stephen's torso, perhaps letting his fingers purposefully graze his nipples, which earned him a high-pitched whine and a furious blush, before pinning both of Stephen's hands above his head. 

It was a brilliant sight. Stephen, who'd been undoubtedly desperate to be the one in power was now helplessly pinned against the wall with only one of Will's hands. The other had moved back under Stephen's shirt, trying to elicit another one of those delicious moans. Will watched in awe as Stephen squirmed, biting his lip, sometimes pushing his pelvis forwards in order to gain some sort of friction. 

Nonetheless, he still hadn't given Will what he wanted, so the latter resided to grinding his hips forwards, slowly and cautiously at first, but soon more quickly, and what were controlled, separate thrusts at first became shameless rutting in no time. 

"Fuck, Stephen", Will moaned with closed eyes as he realised he had a growing problem in his trousers, "won't you make some noise for me?" 

When he opened his eyes he saw Stephen was blushing hard. 

"What is it", he murmured against Stephen's neck as he sucked a number of purple splotches into the flawless skin. 

"I sound girly", Stephen finally admitted, and when Will stopped kissing him suddenly he scrunched his eyes. 

A laugh from Will made Stephen open his eyes again, watching the brunet curiously as he wondered what was funny. 

"Is that why you've been so desperate to be in control?"

Stephen didn't reply, so Will continued. 

"But you like being submissive, don't you Stephen? You like being pinned against the wall and being taunted like this, don't you?" 

"Yes", Stephen managed to stammer, still obviously embarrassed, but also very obviously turned on. Will was going to have some fun with that. 

"Yes what?" 

Stephen looked at him with wide eyes, and the look made Will wonder what that same expression would look like if Stephen were on his knees instead. That thought reminded him that they were wasting too much time talking; both of them needed this situation to progress.

"Yes sir", Stephen said, and when Will hummed in agreement with the addition, he also resumed grinding into Stephen, who was letting go of his self-control as he emitted a series of small whines. Will wasted no time in taking off the other's shirt, and then his own as well, leaving them bare-chested. Not only that, but it gave Will a whole new canvas to cover with kisses. 

He began with Stephen's collarbones; they were sharp underneath his soft skin, and the fine contrast was arousing to Will. Not nearly as arousing as when he moved a bit further down to softly suck on Stephen's nipple, though. 

"Oh", Stephen breathed, his head falling back. Will smiled. 

And stopped. 

He moved his mouth up again, almost to meet Stephens, but instead he whispered "let's take this to the bedroom", not granting the latter the pleasure of a kiss before taking his hand and leading him to said room. 

They couldn't wait until they reached the bed, so as soon as they stepped over the threshold, Will re-attached his lips onto Stephen's, and it felt so right. His hands firmly on the ginger's hips, he drove him back onto the soft bed, climbing on top of him once he was there. 

Somewhere between slow thrusts, he managed to fumble with Stephen's jean zipper, and then his own, leaving them both breathing heavily in nothing but boxers, their bodies sending bolts of electricity with every inch of skin that touched. 

Foreplay was a nice thing, but Will was desirous of more contact, more of their heated and flushed-pink bodies touching and more of that delicious friction that made Stephen moan. 

Each taking off their boxers, Will somehow managed to turn them around, so that Stephen was now on top. Thus, Will was able to admire his stark-naked form; he was incredibly graceful, his dainty physique so chiselled.

Running his hand over Stephen's torso and legs, he truly began to understand the true and glorious connection between love and lust, as he was simply overcome with emotion. 

Stephen was still trying to move as much as he could, their fully exposed bodies now rocking together in unison. Instinctively he wrapped his hand around both of them, pushing forwards as well as flicking his wrist, giving them much-desired friction. It was better than anything Will had ever experienced, and judging by Stephen's constant moans and whines and curses, he knew that the feeling was entirely mutual. Their movements grew faster and sloppier as Will had to grip Stephen's hips tightly to make both of them stop. 

"Can we-", Will asked without actually asking, but Stephen understood and nodded eagerly. 

Will reached over to his night table, opening the drawer to receive a small bottle of lube, as well as a condom. Wordlessly Stephen took the condom as Will coated his fingers generously. He groaned as he felt Stephen's hands gingerly put it on, giving him a few strokes for good measure. 

"Turn around", Will murmured, and Stephen obeyed. Will placed one of his hands right where the dip of Stephen's lower back was as he carefully pushed in his index finger.

"Fuck!", Stephen cried out as he pushed back immediately. He moaned loudly as Will pushed in another finger and began moving them in and out. Experimentally he crooked them, and knew he'd found Stephen's prostate when the latter whined and arched his back, completely submitting to Will's touch. 

Stephen groaned and whined and moaned Will's name like it was the dirtiest kind of blasphemous, and yet the holiest words he could choose. 

"You're so pretty", Will susurrated, "but if you don't stop making so much noise, the whole street is going to hear what I'm doing to you." 

Will smirked as it only increased Stephen's vocality. 

"Will", Stephen whined, drawing out the 'i', "if you don't stop I'm..." 

At first, Will was tempted to stop, but he entertained the thought, and then the action, of continuation. 

"Oh god", Stephen says between heavy breaths; he cuts himself off with a loud moan as Will continuously finds his sweet spot.

"Will if you don't stop I'm going to- Fuck", Stephen cries out, arching his back and bucking into Will's heavenly but oh so sinful touch.

Will's only response is leaning down to bite Stephen's shoulder, then his earlobe, not slowing down one bit as he does. His mouth is right by Stephen's ear as he whispers, "Come for me, Stephen."

And just like that, Stephen is gone, seeing stars as he chants Will's name all the way through his orgasm. Right as he's about to come down from his high, Will finally gives to him. Inch by inch he gives Stephen exactly what he'd been begging for, slowly at first, but as soon as he knows Stephen can take all of him he pulls out and thrusts back into the moaning mess of a boy beneath him.

Stephen's too far gone to notice himself growing hard again; all he can sense is Will's length hitting his prostate over and over again, right after he just came. He thinks he's going to pass out from sheer pleasure, and doesn't realise how much he loves and craves and really badly needs it until Will momentarily stops.

"Fuck", Stephen whines, trying to push himself back into Will's dick as the latter pulls out.

His next moan is swallowed by a hungry kiss, as Will has flipped him over onto his back and wastes no time to resume previous activities.

"I want to see your face when you come this time", Will murmurs shamelessly, his voice surely having dropped a few octaves lower, and bloody hell was it hard for Stephen not to come undone again, right then and there with Will fucking him senseless, whispering more filthy, sinful things into his ear.

Every now and again Will himself let's out a few stifled groans, but what he lives for in this moment are the obscene noises spilling from Stephen's mouth. He's probably not even registering them.

Stephen clenched his stomach, because Will was speeding up. Desperately he gripped the bedsheets, trying to hold onto anything. Small, breathy, high pitched whines were all he could manage, and Will knew he was close again.

God, it was hot.

The thought of Stephen's impending orgasm was almost enough to throw him over the edge, so much so that he sped up his thrusts even further, which only made Stephen arch his back more, moaning louder, mumbling that he was "so close" and that it felt "so good" under his breath. 

It was music to Will's ears, yet he couldn't entirely resist wanting to place his lips onto the beauty beneath him, so he resided to sucking a number of purple splotches onto Stephen's neck.

Stephen didn't wait for a heads up this time, unable to warn Will as he came again, yelling Wills name and his full knowledge of swear words. It was enough to instigate Will's own orgasm nearly immediately, and his thrusts were irregular and needy for that moment where they were both just gone.

And then somehow they managed to move again. Well, Will did. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom, disposing of the condom fist, then quickly but carefully cleaning up the mess on Stephen's stomach, who just stared at the ceiling, whispering "holy fuck" every now and again.

Will smiled proudly as he discarded the towel and tenderly caressed Stephen's cheek.

It had been a night to remember.

To say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support on this fic. It's been unreal and I'm honestly dead sorry for taking so long to finish it.


End file.
